I went to a "bear rave" last night... so I can cross that off my experience list.
John (my spectacular gay companion) somehow managed to coax me into a night on the town. I am really lazy so it was nothing short of miraculous that he not only managed to convince me to go out --but to go to Raleigh.
How did this happen?
He lured me with food.
Also... he's a bit bossy.
The Borough is a great little restaurant in Raleigh. Plus they have a drink called the "Schmitty Schnapps" which is made with gin and "the concentrated essence of rainbows, unicorns, and sarcasm." Amazing, right?
So next up was the "Bear Rave." I didn't quite know what to expect but I was psyched that there were free glow sticks at the door. Inside was an incredibly low-key rave. The music was pretty rave-y (I guess), but everyone seemed pretty content to talk to each other. I didn't think there were conversations at raves. Especially conversations about bicycling and gluten-free diets.
Since we were going to a gay (man) bar, I figured it would be an incredibly low pressure situation for me. I did not anticipate that the patrons would be so incredibly disdainful of my presence.
Chill out, guys. I am here to drink and play Pac-Man. Quit starin' at me and get back to your sedate rave.
John was welcomed into the pack and easily made conversation. It was a matter of minutes before he had scouted out an even better club. I gave him until the end of my Pac-Man game to get the guys number so he could meet up with him later.
"Will that be enough time?"
Whatever, John. I am awesome at Pac-Man. How dare you underestimate my skills.
The next club did not have a Pac-Man machine but was a decidedly larger club. When we got there at 12:07, there was one person dancing on the dance floor. I recoiled at her indifference to the awkwardness she was radiating into the room. Who dances alone in a club? Losers.
The patio was like a super-queer garden of earthly delights. There was a fountain in the center and all around were gay guys, gay ladies, drag queens, and a smattering of bisexuals. You know what there was surpassingly few of? Hipsters. It was incredibly refreshing. It was also hot as hades outside.
I went back inside to the air-condition (my true love) and it was like walking in to a different club. Apparently, 12:45 is the witching hour for Raleigh gays. In the mere minutes I was on the patio, the club had exploded into joyous dancing and celebration. That poor sad (dedicated!) dancer was now hidden in a gleeful throng of queers. It was fun but I why must the gays start partying so late?! I'll never break into the gay scene if things don't get going until 1am. Jeez!
There is a second drag show at 1am which was amazing.
People seem to have varied opinions on drag queens. My feelings are: drag queens are awesome because they 1) Call me sweetheart and 2) Are always taller than me and therefore give awesome hugs. Also, there isn't a single song that can't be enhanced somehow by having a drag queen dance to it. One danced to "
Let the Rain Fall Down" by Hilary Duff. That song would have never entered my mind as a possible song to do a drag show to -- but this lady did. Because drag queens are visionaries.
My favorite performer did a bunch of high-kicks and cartwheels which, given the situation, was a bold addition to the choreography.
Despite being exhausted at the end of the night, we continued to gay it up on the way back to Greensboro with a "Wicked" sing-a-long.
Seriously.
I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't a
rainbow exploding from the back of our car.
It was a good night.
God, I hope my grandparents still read this blog.
